


All Seven Will Fall

by lyn452



Series: Jonerys Week 2019 [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anger, Canon Compliant, Drabble, F/M, Jealousy, Lust, Pride, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:25:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyn452/pseuds/lyn452
Summary: Day 1. Seven Deadly Sins. Daenerys and Jon are not without their faults.





	All Seven Will Fall

_Pride_

The Beggar King, they called her brother. Viserys had told her the proud, noble history of their family, yet he couldn’t seem to follow in their footsteps. Daenerys knew it wasn’t fair to blame her brother for this, it was the usurper's fault. But still, she watched him beg and debase himself in a way that dragons shouldn’t. Where was his pride? 

She had nothing better though and he was king and head of the family, so she followed him dutifully. They were currently staying with a Myrish merchant who did business with Dorne. He and Viserys whispered often, but when Daenerys asked about what they were speaking about, Viserys just told her not to worry about it. He would take care of it. She trusted her brother. 

The merchant arranged a feast for the Golden Company, so that Viserys could try to get them to join his cause. Daenerys wondered why the Golden Company would do anything for a man who couldn’t pay them, but Viserys’ fists ended that line of questioning quickly. 

The feast was opulent and far exceeded anything Daenerys had ever seen. She wondered how Viserys afforded it, but knew better than to ask. She didn’t want to wake the dragon. 

The Golden Company was wined and dined. Viserys courted them to his cause, using their shared history and promising them much once he won his throne. Daenerys wondered about the wisdom of that. They had no idea what money Westeros had or what might be needed to throw out the usurper once and for all. But she kept quiet. Smiling and batting her lashes like the pretty princess she was, supporting her brother totally.

Until one of the men grabbed her and put her on his lap. Daenerys yelped and nearly cried out for her brother, but knew he wasn’t like to save her. She flinched away from the man’s huge beard and yellow eyes. “What about you little princess? Don’t you want to beg for our help?”

Daenerys’ mouth turned into a line. “No.”

The man laughed but grabbed her wrist tighter pulling her to him. She gasped at the pain. “No, little princess?” He grinned and she could smell the beer on his breath. “Come on, let me hear you beg. Just like your brother. Beg for our help.”

Daenerys knew that Viserys would want her to do whatever this man said, but something in her blood stopped her. Blood of the Dragon. She jutted out her chin. “Dragons don’t beg.”

The man laughed even harder. “Looky here men, a proud little princess.” He leaned forward. “You’ll never get to go home with that attitude.” 

She said nothing. Waiting for him to grow bored with her and let her go. It happened sooner then she would have thought. Of course, later, Viserys made her pay. She carried the bruises for days. But she regretted nothing. 

She was Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Blood of the Old Valyria, and she did not beg.

 

* * *

 

_Envy_

Ice was too massive a sword for either Robb or Jon to lift. Even Ned struggled with it. Still both boys always wanted to pick it up, just once. Jon knew he would never be allowed. It was Robb’s birthright, just like Winterfell and everything else the Starks held, it would all be his someday.

And Jon would rely on his brother’s mercy, much like he relied on his father’s now. 

He hated those facts. Hated that he would never be his own man, all because his father hadn’t been married to his mother. Like that was Jon’s fault. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right that Robb got everything and Jon was left with scraps from his table.

Whenever Jon had such thoughts, he felt immediately guilty. The Starks had been kind to him. Some had it much worse than him. But even his guilt never stopped the thoughts. Never stymied the envy.

One day, Ned asked Robb to follow him. Jon and Theon followed as they hadn’t been instructed not to. Ned took Robb to the great hall where his loving mother looked at him with such pride, her eyes shining. Jon had to look away. He didn’t need to see the nasty look Catelyn Stark might throw him if she noticed him. 

“You’ll be a man soon, son,” Ned said in his quiet yet authoritative voice. He took Ice from the mantle ledge where it was kept. “I won’t be here forever and I want to make sure you understand the full weight of your responsibilities as the future Lord of Winterfell. The heavy burden that comes with being in charge of so many lives.” Ned handed Robb Ice, which he clearly couldn’t lift. “I know you aren’t ready for this yet, but life doesn’t always wait until you are ready. I was prepared to support my brother’s rule, but the role passed to me instead. Do you understand?”

Robb nodded solemnly as Theon and Jon looked on. He tried to wield Ice, but he just barely lifted it. Still Ned and Catelyn smiled at the effort. Even the baby Bran wiggled in his mother’s arms, as if he understood the importance of this moment. 

Jon watched Robb as he picked up Ice with two hands as his loving parents watched. He hated his brother in that moment. Hated him for his good looks and noble name, and most of all, the love he had. 

 

* * *

 

_Gluttony_

Daenerys ate another spiced plum. Only those who knew hunger understood the luxury of overeating. She would never forget the pain of hunger pangs. How her stomach had cramped, attempting to eat itself for the lack of food. Now such concerns were naught but a different memory. 

The juice dribbled down her chin and she wiped it away. She would never be hungry again. 

 

* * *

 

_Sloth_

Jon was tired. All the time. It was too much. As no one else in the realm believed him, it looked that he alone would be stopping the greatest threat Westeros had faced since before the Andals. The Free Folk and his brothers were constantly on the edge of fighting each other rather than their common enemy. Stannis was demanding more of him than he could give. Not to mention the usual duties of a Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. He was constantly trying to replenish his ranks, keep his men fed, and keep Castle Black in a livable condition.

He was tired. So he let things slide, too consumed with thoughts of the Night King and how to stop him. He knew he should be more on guard, needed to be a more firm leader, but it was easier to not bother with the unimportant. So he didn’t bother trying to keep discipline when men snuck off to visit Mole’s Town or missed a shift of watch duty or training session. As long as it didn’t become habit, who cared?

He had to let some things go. He didn’t have the energy or time to see to it all. Could he really be blamed for wanting a few moments to himself? Was it truly so bad if he didn’t work every minute of every day? 

He was so tired. 

 

* * *

 

_Greed_

Daenerys remembered a time in Braavos when Viserys explained what interest was to her. He had been talking about the Iron Bank and getting a loan. Daenerys hadn’t understood what a loan was or how it worked. Viserys had explained it to her and after the Iron Bank denied him, had beaten her for her stupidity. 

She saw now it was his own stupidity for ever thinking the Iron Bank would loan him a penny that had truly angered him. Still, when Tyrion suggested asking the famous bank for a loan to fund a navy and begin her conquest of Westeros, her answer had been a firm, “No.”

They wouldn’t have loaned her brother and her a penny when they were desperate for food and shelter, let alone a navy or army. She was no longer desperate and would come to them in a position of power, which is why she didn’t want it. They would want a share of her triumph when it came and she would not give them the satisfaction or a share of the profits.  

She would take back all that was stolen from her and she would rise above all the Targaryens that came before her. And those old men in their bank could simply watch her do it. 

 

* * *

 

_Lust_

Jon had seen men fall prey to addiction, and she might be his. He wanted her. All the time. He wanted to bury himself in her. He wanted to stay on this ship forever, lost in her and her soft curves. Screw Westeros, the Night King, the ungrateful cunts who called themselves lords and ladies, and everyone else. He had Daenerys, that was all the world that matter to him anymore. 

He loved the taste of her, loved slurping her slit and flicking that pebble that made her scream. He loved it when her nails scratched down his back and she bit his lip just a bit too hard and drew blood. It excited him, which he never would have known about himself if it hadn’t been for her. She was a dragon everywhere and that included the bedroom, and if it hadn’t been for his desire to please her, he never would’ve discovered that he was a wolf everywhere as well. He had thought it only battle that got his wolf’s blood up, he’d always been so gentle before with Ygritte. 

He was gentle with Daenerys too, but she liked it a little rougher. To his surprise, Jon discovered he liked it a little rougher too. He liked it when she tugged on his hair just a little too hard. He liked it when she forced him to flip onto his back and rode him until he forgot his name. He loved it when she took his hard dick into her mouth and sucked him dry. 

When they finished, she would hold him to her breast like the mother so many called her. That tenderness nearly made Jon cry. He had longed for such love, such comfort all his life and he found it with her. He would hold her to him tightly as though she would flee her own stateroom, maybe hop on Drogon and fly from him. But she never did.

He was addicted to her. He feared this lust would consume him. She would burn him alive with her fire and he’d die happy in her flames. 

Jon never wanted to leave this boat. 

 

* * *

 

_Wrath_

Burn them, she thought. Burn them all. These people didn’t deserve her. She had given the people of Westeros everything she had. She gave them her armies, her dragons, her love, and what had she gotten in return?

She pictured Jon Snow in her mind’s eye. She had given him everything. She loved him and it wasn’t enough for him. She wasn’t enough for him. Why? He was going to take everything from her. She knew it. He might feel bad about it. He might give her those sorrowful looks he wore so well, but he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

Not unless she did something terrible. Fear was as effective as love. She couldn’t make them love her, but they would fear her. They would tremble at the very thought of her angry. They would sing songs of her wrath for generations. 

As Missandei had said, “Dracarys.”


End file.
